


if you let me, here's what i'll do

by whythis



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bathing/Washing, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Massage, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6398398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whythis/pseuds/whythis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa has had a rough couple weeks, and Clarke has a plan to help her get the tension out and finally relax.</p><p> <br/>This was supposed to be a little vignette of Clarke being the one taking care of her girl for a change, but it got out of hand and somehow became about 4k words of fluffy foreplay and 4k words of pure smut. It's set in the canon world but in some vague magical future version where they got to have an actual relationship and worry about things other than Arkadia. Spoilers: Clarke washes her hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you let me, here's what i'll do

It wasn’t easy to hurry in out of the rain while still looking as dignified as the Commander of the Thirteen Clans was supposed to. Lexa tried for the longest, most ground-eating strides she could manage, but it still wasn’t enough to prevent her from being soggy and muddy and freezing cold by the time she ducked into her tent. She gave up her regal posture halfway across it, instead folding her arms against her chest and letting the slight limp she’d been forcing herself to hide all day show as she made her way the last few yards to the sleeping area hidden in back. Clarke was already there, having left the last post-battle debriefing with the other generals while Lexa remained behind to speak to local village leaders. She got to her feet as the commander arrived and Lexa started to push herself up straight again, but Clarke gave her a look.

“You don’t have to pretend, I already know you’re hurting.”

“I’m fine, Clarke.”

“If you get any more tense your bones will snap.”

“I’m fine, I’m just a little stiff.” Clarke continued to give her a look and Lexa sighed and conceded, “And tired.” Another bend of Clarke’s eyebrow, and Lexa rolled her eyes but gave in, “And sore.”

“Was that so hard?”

“Clarke, you know—”

“I know. I know you have to look strong, I get it. But you did that all day. You’ve been doing it for weeks. And now the battle is finally won and there’s nobody here to see you but me. You can relax, Lexa.”

Lexa chuckled, a dry, rueful sort of sound and ran a hand over her face. “I’m not very good at that.”

“I know. But I have an idea.” Clarke’s crooked little smile was all empathy, and she stepped forward to offer Lexa her hand. “Just trust me, okay?”

Lexa wrapped her fingers around Clarke’s without hesitation, and nodded. “I trust you.”

“Good. Now come here.” Clarke led her behind the curtain and stopped between their bed and the bathtub, which handmaidens had already filled with steaming water. Clarke made quick work of Lexa’s soaked coat and tossed it onto a chest before crouching to unlace her muddy boots and throw them into a corner, all while Lexa was still eying the tub, clearly wondering how Clarke had managed to have the water hot precisely on time for her arrival despite the mess of the weather outside, not to mention the busy aftermath of battle. But Clarke had a way of getting what she wanted. The blonde peeled Lexa’s shirt up and off, careful not to force her to move her neck and arms too quickly, and unfastened her bra.

“Clarke, I can—”

“Shhh. Just let me.”

Lexa huffed but held still, and let Clarke continue with unbuckling her belt and unfastening her pants, pushing them down and then her underwear so Lexa could step out.

She let Clarke lead her the few steps to the tub, bracing a hand on the side and trying not to wince as she pulled her leg high enough to step in. Clarke’s face twisted with a sympathetic wince, but she knew better than to try to help, at least not yet. The water was that just a little too hot for comfort that Clarke had found Lexa preferred, and the commander couldn’t help a small groan as she gingerly lowered herself into the tub, stiff limbs complaining the whole way. She dropped the last foot abruptly when the muscles in her shoulders and thighs seemed to give out, and the water sloshed up her neck as she sank in and leaned back.

Clarke held in a smile at the way Lexa’s eyes almost immediately slid shut in relief, but it wasn’t long before one cracked open to squint at Clarke.

“You are going to join me?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Of course. The water will be cold if you wait.”

“Planning to stay in there a while?”

Lexa’s eyes both sprang open at that and she shook her head, pushing herself upright. “Oh. No, I can be quick. I’m sorry, I thought--.”

“Lexa, I was joking.” Clarke moved closer, taking a seat on the stool beside the tub and folding her hands on its edge beside Lexa’s shoulder. “I can get more water later, this is just for you.”

The brunette’s brow remained furrowed, and there was a slight jut to her lower lip that hinted at a pout. “You shouldn’t have to do that, Clarke. You need a bath, too.”

“Are you saying that I smell?”

“Clarke, please.” Lexa knew it was a joke but her eyes remained serious and uncertain as she reached over to set her hand on Clarke’s.

Seeing that she’d managed to cause some confusion, Clarke gave Lexa’s hand a little squeeze. “If you want me to join you, of course I will. I just want it to be because you want me there, not because you feel obligated to share. You deserve a bath to yourself after today if you want one, especially since this tub isn’t as big as the one in Polis. It really won’t hurt my feelings if you’d like to just enjoy it on your own.”

“I want you here.” Lexa didn’t hesitate, but a pause followed as Clarke searched her expression, trying to decide if she believed it. She found exactly what she always did in Lexa’s eyes when they were alone like this: sincerity, and love so complete that months later it still shook her. Clarke smiled softly and pushed up off the stool to quickly shed her clothes, kicking them into the laundry heap with Lexa’s.

“Tip forward,” she said, and Lexa did so, making space for Clarke to slide into the bath behind her. She let her legs float for a moment and then planted her feet and bent her knees between the sides of the tub and Lexa’s thighs, bracketing her. The commander remained leaning forward until Clarke reached arms around her shoulders and drew her back, and Lexa carefully eased her weight onto Clarke’s chest and her head back onto her shoulder. Clarke pressed a kiss to her temple. “Relax.”

“I am.”

Clarke laughed, and hugged her arms a little tighter around the girl in front of her. “You’re getting there, but you can do better. You know you’re not going to squash me, we’ve done this a million times without either of us getting hurt. Let go, Lexa.”

Lexa’s sigh was a little aggrieved but she tried, settling her weight back more fully against Clarke. She couldn’t seem to help worrying that it would be uncomfortable for the blonde, but she couldn’t pretend it didn’t feel nice to have Clarke’s arms and legs tangled around her and the soft swell of her breasts pressed against her back. She tried to let herself focus on that and nothing else, and was rewarded with Clarke’s hands stroking up and down her arms from shoulder to elbow.

From there they moved to her sides, up and down again, slow and soothing, up her abdomen to cup a breast in each hand. Clarke’s thumbs stroked gently across Lexa’s nipples just once and then settled into a soft back and forth across the less-sensitive slopes of her chest, and Lexa found herself not minding when that’s where they remained. There was something strange but very nice about just being held like this, Clarke’s palms fitted to the soft curves, helping the water support their weight, and the lulling rhythm of her touch. Lexa let her eyes drift closed again and Clarke murmured a wordless noise of approval near her ear.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, wrapped up in Clarke, soaking the heat of the water into chilled bones and stiff muscles, listening to the rain beating down on the tent overhead and the noise of the camp outside. Eventually she felt Clarke give a gentle squeeze before withdrawing her hands and brushing a kiss beside Lexa’s ear. Softly, she said, “Let me wash your hair.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to. And it smells like smoke and blood.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t think,” Lexa said, lifting her head and drawing away, reaching up to pull her hair forward over a shoulder, away from Clarke.

“Lexa, please. It’s fine, I’m sure mine is just as bad.” Clarke ran a hand down Lexa’s back as the other girl bent forward away from her, fingers tripping over the knobbly bones of her spine and the long muscles on either side, still pulled taut beneath inked skin. “Move forward a little and sit up straight for me.”

“You really don’t need to do this, Clarke,” Lexa protested, even as she did what was asked. “I can wash my own hair.”

“We both know you can barely lift your arms right now.”

“I had no trouble lifting my arms when I cut through the rebel guard and removed their leader’s head.”

Clarke bit her lip to hold in a grin at the fierce proud note in Lexa’s voice and bent forward to press a kiss to her shoulder. “I know, and that’s why you shouldn’t have to lift them again tonight. You’ve done enough.”

“So have you, Clarke. You were out there on the field today too, just as you have been with me through all of this. You deserve to be taken care of yourself, not to be worrying about helping me.”

“ _Lexa_.” The firm way Clarke said her name had the commander shifting to try to turn and get a look at Clarke’s face. The blonde held her gaze for a silent moment to make sure her words would sink in. “I am doing this because I want to. I want to take care of you for a change. If you don’t like it, then of course we don’t have to do it, but if you’re uncomfortable because you don’t think you deserve this, then stop. You always take such good care of me, and you’re the one who had a horse fall on her and then had to pretend to be completely fine and fight a half-dozen battles instead of getting to rest and heal, so please.” She reached up to stroke a thumb along Lexa’s cheek and her bottom lip, and lifted her brows hopefully. “Let me do this for you?”

Clarke knew this wasn’t easy for her: the importance of selfless service had been drilled into Lexa’s head all her life, and Clarke knew, too, that even months later part of Lexa still felt like she needed to make up for what her choice at the mountain had done to Clarke. But she also knew Lexa needed this. She’d watched the commander spend the last two weeks pretending she was perfectly fine when Clarke knew it was just that her injuries were all hidden beneath her clothes.

Lexa had been lucky to escape without broken bones, but getting pinned beneath her horse had left the commander battered, covered in deep bruises and with wrenched muscles she aggravated every time she forced herself to walk and fight like normal. Which was constantly, because this campaign against the Wastelander bandits required speed and ferocity, a vicious flurry of assaults that would drive them back before they could gain a foothold that would let them become a continuing problem. Had Lexa taken a step back or a day off, the bandits and the other clans all would have smelled blood in the water.

But now, with their leader killed and their stronghold destroyed in today’s battle, there was finally a moment to breathe. Clarke could see the mixed emotions doing battle of their own behind Lexa’s eyes, but finally the exhaustion and the longing won out over guilty reluctance, and she nodded.

“Okay.” Her voice was quiet, but she turned around to let Clarke at her hair.

“Okay. Let’s get you wet first.” Clarke didn’t notice her wording until Lexa mumbled something under her breath, and then Clarke laughed and gave her shoulder a gentle pinch. “Shut up.” Lexa turned her head just enough to let Clarke see the corner of her smile, and Clarke stretched forward to press a sideways kiss to it. “There will be time for that later.”

For now, she helped Lexa tip back into the water, supporting her with both arms as she leaned far enough to duck under and wet her hair, which was trickier than it seemed with both of them in the tub. Clarke wished (not for the first time) that the huge basin in Lexa’s rooms in Polis was somehow transportable.

Lexa sat up wiping her eyes, and Clarke lathered her hands from a jar on the tub-side table, then began working the shampoo into Lexa’s hair. She was gentle at first, but seeing the way Lexa’s eyes rolled shut and her next exhale became almost a sigh encouraged Clarke to continue far longer than was necessary, pressing her fingertips in until it was a thinly-veiled head massage. She might have liked to keep it up indefinitely, but she couldn’t wear her hands out already with what she had in mind for later, so eventually she picked up the cup and comb and turned to rinsing, pouring water back over Lexa’s head and carefully working the comb through.

When that was done she didn’t give Lexa a chance to protest, just soaped a cloth and started running it over her back and shoulders, around the nape of her neck, down arms and around sides, gently but thoroughly washing away the sweat and grime of battle from every inch of skin. She swirled the cloth around her breasts and between them, dipped it into Lexa’s navel, and rubbed gently between her legs, resisting the urge to linger over sensitive areas and turn this into something more than a bath even as nipples pebbled hard and goosebumps rose in her wake.

She was pleased that Lexa let her do it at all, indulging her by rearranging her limbs when asked to give Clarke easier access here and there rather than trying to take over doing it for herself, and even holding still while Clarke maneuvered around in front of her, lying back against the end of the tub and letting Clarke scrub her legs to her satisfaction. The closest she came to a complaint was the noise of surprise when Clarke tickled the sole of her foot unexpectedly and she twitched away, splashing them both and making Clarke laugh and Lexa smile.

When she was finished, Clarke quickly took care of herself, scrubbing briskly all over and washing her own hair with far less care than she’d done Lexa’s.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” the commander had asked at one point from where she lay, still reclined against the opposite end of the tub, watching Clarke from beneath heavy lids.

“I’m sure. Just don’t fall asleep on me, _heda_. I’m not done with you yet.”

Lexa had just smiled, one corner of her mouth hitched up higher than the other, and waited patiently. When she was finished and the water had begun to cool Clarke helped her out of the tub and wrapped them both in towels, still smiling even when Lexa drew the line at Clarke’s teasing attempts at drying her off and finally plucked the towel from her hands to do it herself. She started to head for the chest that held their clothes but here Clarke stopped her.

“Not yet. Go lie down.” She gave a tiny shove toward the bed. Lexa arched a brow, but wasn’t really about to argue this of all things. She sat up against the headboard and waited while Clarke put on clean underwear and a loose old short-sleeved shirt, stocked and stoked the brazier nearby to keep the chill out indefinitely, and brought her bag over to the bed to collect a small bottle from it. Lexa was peering at it curiously when Clarke turned back and saw her.

“On your stomach,” she corrected, and Lexa arched a brow but slowly moved further down the bed, still looking at Clarke and the bottle as she eased onto her front, propping herself up on her elbows.

“What is that?”

“It’s oil.” Clarke walked on her knees across the bed to set a hand between Lexa’s shoulder blades. “Now lie down. You said you were stiff and sore, this will help.”

“Oil will help? Is it that stuff that’s supposed to warm muscles, because I’ve tried that before—”

“No, this just smells nice. The massage is what’s going to help.”

“The massage.”

“A back rub? It’ll help loosen up the knots in the muscles so you can relax.”

“Hmm.”

Clarke laughed. “Don’t sound too excited.” She swung a leg over Lexa’s body and sat back, collecting damp hair between her fingers and coiling it into a single quick, fat braid she could sweep aside, then pressed a kiss to the top of her shoulder. “Trust me,” she reiterated, “I know what I’m doing.”

Lexa gave in and drew her arms up so that she could fold her hands beneath her head. Clarke didn’t miss the careful way she moved her shoulders. “I trust you, Clarke.” Clarke smiled and kissed her cheek this time before sitting back. She poured a little bit of oil into her palm and rubbed it between her hands until it warmed before sliding them up Lexa’s back and down again, coating the narrow expanse before her. Then Clarke went to work in earnest.

She started at the shoulders, thumbs digging in and palms pressed after, unsurprised to find that Lexa still carried a lot of tension even after a hot bath. She took her time, light pressure first and only gradually increasing, giving Lexa a chance to object if something hurt. Not that she was likely to, stoic as she was. Clarke paused and leaned over to get a look at the commander’s face.

“You should tell me if anything I do hurts. Sometimes it’s supposed to, but I’m not aiming for that right now so if there’s pain it means I’m doing something wrong. Not discomfort, but actual pain. But I mean that by normal person standards, not your standards. If I would call it pain, let me know, okay?”

“This doesn’t hurt.”

“But if it does.”

“I will tell you.”

“Will you really?”

“Clarke,” Lexa grumbled her name now, annoyed. Clarke just continued to look at her until she sighed. “Yes. I will tell you. But that really did not hurt. Please continue.”

“So you like it?”

Lexa exhaled a huff that was almost a chuckle, and rolled her eyes. “Yes, I like it. So far.”

Clarke smiled; that the admission was still a little grudging just made it all the more gratifying. And she had a feeling she’d have Lexa singing its praises more openly soon, if she did this right.

She went back to work on her shoulders, starting at the outside and paying careful attention to the joints before wandering out to rub warm hands up her triceps and down biceps, marveling as always at how much muscle Lexa managed to hide away on slender limbs. She was tempted to continue past her elbows, but making Lexa rearrange now wasn’t worth it. A forearm and hand massage could be for another day, maybe something to save for one of the rare days when they could steal enough time to themselves for Lexa to wear her hands out in Clarke. The idea made her smile and shift her seat on Lexa’s ass in a way she hope felt innocent and incidental.

She worked her way back inwards instead, until she was pressing her thumbs into the base of Lexa’s neck, steadily increasing the pressure before working it up inch by inch to the base of her skull. She concentrated on her neck until finally the tension began to drain out of it beneath her fingers and Lexa let out a tiny noise along with her next breath. Clarke smiled at that, too, and lingered here for a few more minutes before finally beginning to work her way down her back.

The long muscles alongside her spine had always fascinated Clarke as much as the tattoo inked down their center. She’d spent more time than she’d readily admit watching them bunch and move as Lexa trained or even just got dressed, feeling them straining beneath her hands when Lexa was on top of her. She dragged her nails over them now, more lightly than she usually did in bed, and the tingling trails of sensation clearly reminded Lexa, too, because the brunette exhaled another breath through her nose and shifted beneath her. Clarke smiled at the reaction, but the faint hint of restlessness in the motion told her she still had work to do if she wanted to get Lexa all the way to truly relaxed tonight. They’d made a lot of progress, but Clarke had visions of Lexa completely boneless and pliable and groaning under her hands that she wanted to make a reality.

The image made her hips twitch forward, rocking briefly against Lexa, and Clarke was forced to admit that this goal of hers was not entirely selfless. She really did believe that Lexa needed and deserved to be pampered until the last bit of tension finally drained out of her, and the way she’d begun to respond in the bath suggested that Lexa secretly liked it, too. But it also didn’t hurt that the idea of bringing her to that point was turning Clarke on.

Her own arousal wasn’t the focus right now, though, and she turned her attention back to the soft, warm skin beneath her hands. At first Clarke just touched, making sure she knew which of Lexa’s bruises from the accident still lingered deeper down even after the color had faded, and where the worst of the wrenched muscles were. It required some careful reading of Lexa’s profile and body language plus one reluctantly helpful admission by Lexa about a particularly painful spot, but when Clarke had a map she was satisfied with she rubbed another coat of oil onto her hands and began.

She worked in silence, letting the calming scent of the oil surround them. Outside it had begun to rain harder, drowning out the noise of the army camp beneath the constant beat of the rain on canvas. Combined with the low, flickering light of the candles, it served to narrow their world down to this bed and this moment, lulling them both.

Clarke could feel Lexa beginning to ease the more she worked, slowly unspooling beneath her hands. It took less time than she expected before small noises started to sneak out of the commander’s mouth, first just an occasional grunt as Clarke dug in hard, or a sigh as Clarke untied a knot. And they grew larger, to a growl of frustration as Clarke tended to a stubborn spot below her shoulder blade, and a soft moan when she finally succeeded in easing it. Clarke had thought the growls would be her favorite, the way she could almost feel them rumble in Lexa’s chest, and the way one adorably cracked and broke up an octave in the middle when Clarke surprised her by pushing an elbow into a difficult area beside Lexa’s spine.

But the moans started quiet and built as little by little, knot by knot, Clarke’s hands unraveled Lexa’s tension and the commander’s self-control went with it. Soon enough the blonde was pushing her weight into the mess that was Lexa’s lower back and around the base of her spine when she finally felt something pop into place and Lexa let out a groan so deep and blatantly pornographic that they were both shocked by it. Clarke’s hands stilled of their own accord and Lexa clapped fingers over her mouth, and then they both dissolved into helpless laughter.

“That was pretty hot,” Clarke said as it petered out, still grinning.

 _“Shof op_.” Lexa’s cheeks were red.

“No, really,” Clarke bit her lip and leaned down, letting her hands glide up Lexa’s back until she could speak into her ear and let the husk of her voice turn it into a different sort of teasing. “Do that again.”

She knew Lexa was enjoying herself when after a moment she murmured back, “Make me.”

In response, Clarke flickered her tongue around the shell of her ear, and planted her palms on Lexa’s back to push herself upright and the other girl deeper into the furs she lay on. When she returned her hands to the spot that had made Lexa groan and repeated the action she still got enough of a pleased noise to know that Lexa wasn’t intentionally holding back, but it was nothing compared to the first time.

She had to slide back to straddle thighs to really dig in to the base of her spine with the leverage she needed, but it wasn’t until she attacked the tightly-strung muscles of Lexa’s hips that she was rewarded with another full-throated groan that sent a shiver straight to her core. It was tempting, but she didn’t stop there, leaning her weight onto the rock-hard muscles of Lexa’s backside, kneading at the perfect curves of her ass before working her way down thighs as she slid herself backwards.

Clarke reached a hand back up to stroke along her back, curious whether the tension had returned as soon as she’d moved on. She was pleased to find that it hadn’t yet, and even more pleased to discover the complete lack of resistance or question when she lifted Lexa’s knees and drew them apart far enough to kneel between. She rubbed a hamstring between both hands, massaging it until it loosened and had wiped the oil off her hands, and then let her fingers trail higher, back up to where it met the slope of her ass, down and in to stroke the velvet-soft skin of Lexa’s inner thigh.

Clarke moved slowly, watching for a reaction as her fingers trailed higher and higher, until the tips brushed across Lexa’s sex, prompting a murmur and a shiver. They came away wet, and Clarke grinned. She wasted no time dipping them back in, stroking the length of her slit and slipping a little further each time until her fingers were slick to the second knuckle and massaging the tight ring of muscle at Lexa’s opening.

She rubbed it gently, circling and stroking until she earned a needy, impatient noise from Lexa. Then she inched in deeper, stroking in with two fingers, turning and circling them inside her. Clarke scissored them a few times as she sunk them in a little farther, hearing Lexa's breath catch as she pushed gently against the walls that gripped and sucked at her fingers. She drew them out and pushed back in deeper still, angled to drag back and forth across her front wall until they found the swollen patch.

There was that groan she’d been looking for, raw like it had been tugged straight out of Lexa’s chest by unexpected pleasure.

“ _Clarke_ ,” she gasped at the next thrust, and “ _Yes_ ,” at the one after that, and from there Lexa dissolved as quickly as Clarke had ever seen into helpless noises and babbled trigedasleng, all _mou_ and _beja_ and _jok_. Clarke drove her fingers into Lexa’s slippery heat with the same steady, relentless pace she’d used to unknit her back. It wasn’t fast, but each push took her in as far as she could go, buried to her last knuckle even as Lexa’s inner walls squeezed, greedy for more.

Unable to reach any deeper Clarke instead added a third finger, and the slight stretch had Lexa moaning into the furs with every breath, her hips rocking slightly into Clarke’s hand and forward to grind against the bed. Clarke’s free hand stroked and kneaded her ass and Lexa muffled a whimper in the furs and squirmed for more contact until she was rewarded with those fingers rubbed firmly around her clit instead.

Clarke knew it had been a rough couple of weeks, and she was all too aware of how work and injury and exhaustion and bad luck had stolen the moments they might have spent in bed together. But even knowing it had been two weeks, even seeing how quickly the commander was worked into a moaning mess, she was still surprised when it took only another minute or so before Lexa was shuddering as her orgasm swept through her, toes and forehead pressed hard to the bed and muscles quivering.

It faded too quickly to be fully satisfying, but still left her sprawled on the bed in a way Clarke couldn’t help but admire. She was beautiful like this (she was beautiful all the time), and after Clarke had sucked her fingers and palm clean she ran both hands up Lexa’s body from knees to shoulders, reveling in the slack warmth of her. Lexa was always so tightly wound, all lean muscle, taut planes and firm bunches and hard angles, and feeling her begin to turn into soft putty beneath her made Clarke press her thighs together and shiver.

But tonight wasn’t about her, and she had never planned to stop at just one anyway; putty was nice but Lexa melted into a puddle would be even nicer, and ran a better chance of giving her the relief and rest she badly needed. As Lexa caught her breath, Clarke reached for a pair of pillows. She slid an arm beneath Lexa’s hips and lifted, sliding the pillows beneath her, and smiled as Lexa just dropped back onto them and wiggled a little to get comfortable. Clarke went back to the bag at the corner of the bed, and was fastening soft leather straps around her hips by the time Lexa finally bothered to ask, voice rough and mumble-y,

“What’re you doing?”

Clarke cinched them a little tighter, and then leaned down to speak near Lexa’s ear. “You know that toy you fucked me with the night before we left? The one I can’t get enough of?”

She could see Lexa’s throat bob in a swallow as she nodded.

“I brought it. And I figured it was time you finally got a turn. How does that sound?”

This time, Lexa licked her lips. “Are you sure you want to—?”

“Yes.” Clarke laughed softly at her own eagerness, and pressed a kiss to her ear, nipping at the lobe. “Lexa, _yes_. I want to wear you out. Does that sound good to you?”

This time Lexa didn’t hesitate before nodding, cheek rubbed into the furs. Her voice had gone breathy again already. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Clarke kissed her cheek and sat back. The toy was padded wood beneath soft leather, slightly curved, and she stroked it between Lexa’s legs before she attached it, dragging it through swollen, sopping lips until it was almost as glistening wet as she was. It took a second to get it hooked on to the harness, but then Clarke was kneeling behind her, and they both breathed faster as she lined up the tip and began to slowly press in.

“Let me know if you need me to stop.” When she got no response, Clarke prompted, “Lexa.”

“It’s good.” It sounded more like ‘ _don’t you dare stop_.’

The toy wasn’t actually wider than Clarke’s three fingers had been side by side, and wet as Lexa was it slipped in fairly easily. Clarke tried to keep her stroke smooth and steady, watching it disappear into Lexa until she was buried to the hilt. She held there for a moment, and rubbed a hand across Lexa’s thigh and ass and lower back. They’d gone tight, but were already relaxing again as Lexa’s momentary tension began to fade.

“How is that?" Clarke checked, "Still good, or—”

“Yes. It’s different.”

“Good different or bad different?”

“Good. Just—slowly?”

“Of course.”

Clarke slowly drew out all but the very tip, and pushed back in the same way, a little mesmerized by watching Lexa’s lips cling to the toy and spread to take it back. She’d seen the same with her fingers before, of course, she even had tonight already, but so often they were hurried, or in the dark, or busy kissing, or too close up as she used her mouth, and Clarke found that the sight did not get old. 

A gentle roll of her hips dragged the shaft in and out at an angle that she knew she had enjoyed in the past. Lexa seemed to like it too, pillowing her face on her bent arms and letting out a heavy sigh as Clarke pressed back into her. Emboldened, she thrust a little harder the next time, and earned another. She found a rhythm, slow and steady as had been her M.O. all night, easy for Lexa to get used to the depth and the fullness, and a slow build that she hoped would pay off more thoroughly for Lexa than their first round had.

Lexa had other ideas, and though she didn’t move or open her eyes, after a few minutes she said something that sounded like “Faster,” but was muffled against the bed. Clarke wanted to be sure and leaned down to ask.

“Faster?”

Clarke had slowed to a circling grind to ask, and it made Lexa moan. She nodded, but as the blonde started to straighten up, she stopped her with a quick, breathy, “ _Clarke_ ,” and when she had leaned back down again added, “But I like this, too.” Clarke kissed the back of her neck, lips pressed to the tattoo and the scar beneath.

Not bothering to push back up onto her haunches yet, she sat up only long enough to tug off her shirt to let skin press to skin, breasts against back, the brush of hard nipples making them both shiver. With an elbow planted on either side of Lexa’s shoulders she stayed as close as she could as hips made tight circles against her ass, and she dragged kisses across her back and shoulders, glad she had remembered to rub the oil in so thoroughly before. Lexa’s skin was warm, fragrant from the oil but not greasy, and so soft, even the faint lumps and ridges of old scars she traced with her tongue. From here she could hear every catch of Lexa’s breath, see every clench of her jaw and feel every fluttering muscle as she laid herself across her back.

She could see why this was one of Lexa’s favorite positions when their roles were reversed, and it didn’t hurt that the close fit of their bodies like this gave some attention to Clarke’s own neglected clit. She hadn’t been touched except one or two tiny rocks against Lexa’s backside when they’d first moved to the bed and this frustratingly indirect pressure now, but Clarke was pretty sure that it would only take a minute or two of selfishly rutting hard against the harness—or anything, really--to make her come. On the Ark she’d heard of strap-ons that came with an attachment that would have let her fuck herself as she fucked Lexa, but this was a much simpler construction, putting a little pressure and brief friction between her legs when she thrust but that was all. It was just as well if it kept her focused, she’d decided. She was confident, and she seemed to be doing it right so far, but she’d never actually done this before.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so incredibly wet just from what she was doing to someone else. Lexa was always so unselfish in bed, so focused on Clarke, that Clarke had never realized just how hot it would be to experience the commander getting completely lost in her own pleasure. Every sound Lexa made she felt like a spark of electricity between her legs, every expression Clarke could see in profile of pleasure and relief and want and need and all of it so openly displayed on Lexa’s flushed, beautiful face made her breath speed, and every touch, Lexa’s perfect body under her, against her, moved by her, so loose and trusting and for once just taking and enjoying—Clarke shuddered and clenched her fist to keep from pressing her fingers between her own legs and instead ground into her lover a little harder and bit back a groan herself.

Unlike Lexa, she couldn’t hold herself up on her arms forever before muscles began to protest, and Clarke pushed back to her knees and took Lexa’s hips in her hands, drawing out fully to stroke back in and finally find that faster that Lexa had wanted before they both got distracted. Lexa grumbled at the loss of Clarke’s warm weight against her back, but it broke into a noise of pleasure at being abruptly emptied and filled again.

Clarke increased her pace only gradually, still determined to drag this out no matter what her own body would have preferred. When Lexa’s breath began to come faster and her moans rose in pitch, Clarke slowed and gentled, letting the moment pass and release fade back out of reach before continuing in earnest. The first time, Lexa made only a faint noise of disappointment. The second, her moan was a little louder, surprised, and she tried to lift her hips to push back harder onto Clarke’s. By the fifth time she was glistening with sweat and boneless with lust, her groan almost a sob into the furs, overwhelmed and needy at the same time and well beyond forming words in any language. After the sixth she was all that but also shamelessly rutting her hips between Clarke and the bed, desperate for release.

“Shhhh,” Clarke finally took pity, angling the toy back into her lover again before slipping her hand beneath the other girl’s body, “I’ve got you, Lexa.” She pressed her palm tight against her mound and let her grind against it, and then drew back so her fingers could stroke little circles around the aching nub of her clit. She did it slowly at first but then faster, the pace of her thrusts increasing with it, along with the octave and volume of Lexa’s cries. “Almost there. All you have to do is let go this time. Go ahead and come, Lexa. I’m not going to stop again.”

She watched the commander’s back bend like a bow, all those muscles Clarke had worked hard to loosen drawn tight as its string as her climax rolled over her like a wave. She held like that until Clarke worried she’d pull something, shuddering from head to toe, hips rocking in shivery little jerks before finally with a burst of an exhale all the tension released at once. When Clarke finally stilled both hand and hips and drew slowly out and away, Lexa shuddered once, but otherwise didn’t move and if she hadn’t still been breathing so loudly Clarke would have thought she’d passed out.

After a few minutes, Clarke reached for Lexa’s shoulders and hips and gently rolled her over, arousal coiling ever tighter in her belly at how easily the commander let herself be posed, tipped onto her back, head lolling and limbs flopping heavily after, eyes never opened and not so much as a whisper of protest or question. Clarke placed a pillow beneath her head, brushed hair off her sweat-damp brow and pressed a kiss to her forehead before arranging herself against Lexa’s side, prepared to let the sound of the rain and her love’s breathing, deep and slow and satisfied, lull her to sleep.

A while later, just as she was almost beginning to doze, she felt Lexa’s fingers brush against her belly as she mumbled, “What about you?”

Clarke had thrown an arm across her and she gave the commander’s side a rub and shook her head against her shoulder, still doing her best to ignore the hot pulse of her own heartbeat between her legs. “I’m fine. Sleep, Lex.”

“You’re wet.” Clarke was, achingly so, but she’d assumed that Lexa was past noticing even with Clarke pressed against her hip. She hadn't realized til now just how thoroughly she had soaked through her shorts. Before she had time to draw back and protest, Lexa added, “You can use me.”

“What?”

Lexa patted her own thigh. The invitation was vague and sleepy, but Clarke understood, and it made her push up and press a kiss to the corner of the other girl’s mouth. Lexa’s smile was sleepy too, but that didn’t take the little smirk out of it. “I know you want to.”

Clarke laughed, and pressed her flushed cheek against Lexa’s shoulder. She really, really did. Lexa hadn't bothered to move her hand again after making the invitation, but now she stretched her fingers out from her own thigh to brush the outside of Clarke's where it pressed against her. “Go ahead if you want to, Clarke,” she urged, voice soft, husky from the night’s use and still a little slow and fumbly with _gonasleng_ the way she only ever was in bed when she finally let her brain go quiet. “Or use my fingers. _Oyun_.  _Som, beja_. You deserve it. And I like watching,” she confessed, even as her eyes pressed more tightly closed as she yawned.

Clarke laughed again but didn’t have it in her to say no to something she wanted so badly, offered so sweetly. She pulled away to strip off ruined underwear and then rolled back onto Lexa, pushing herself up to straddle her thigh. Just that contact alone made her whimper, and spurred Lexa to get her eyes open at least a sliver. She didn’t move to help or touch at all, just remained sprawled against the pillows where Clarke had put her, watching through her lashes with a tiny smile as the blonde positioned them both to find the angle she needed. Clarke didn’t mind; she wasn't self-conscious, and she was counting it as a point of pride that she’d reduced endlessly attentive Lexa to such sated selfishness.

She dragged herself up Lexa’s thigh and back, practically gliding on the wet trail she left. She pushed tight up against the join of hip and thigh and tipped forward, already shivering at the first brush of her clit, knowing this wasn’t going to take long. She braced a hand on Lexa and one on the bed and ground down against her, rocking her hips in unsteady circles, chest already heaving with quick, panted breaths. She could just hear herself over the sound of the storm outside, the needy little noises she was making, half-moans and choked, frustrated whimpers when she thought she’d almost had relief in her sights but it slipped away. She pushed down harder and faster, working her hips against Lexa’s as desperately as the other girl had against the bed and Clarke’s hand earlier, and the image helped nudge her to the brink.

Her breath caught and she reached for Lexa’s hand where it lay against the mattress, drawing it over and using it as had been offered, positioning it just barely underneath her, long fingers against her dripping, grasping slit and palm there to grind against. Just looking down at Lexa beneath her, lips parted and eyes dark as she watched, unmoving but willing to be moved however Clarke liked, hand and hip and heart on offer, she shut her eyes and came. All Clarke’s restraint was snapping and exploding within her at once, her head falling back, riding Lexa’s palm and her thigh with urgent jerks of her hips. She shuddered and groaned until the last of the sparks shooting along her nerves faded and she slumped forward, catching her breath.

She was still catching it when she tipped over onto her side and drew Lexa’s hand up to her mouth, one by one sliding her lips around her fingers and sucking them clean. Lexa let out a soft noise from the back of her throat and Clarke was surprised to hear want in it. She turned to look at the other girl and found her still watching, eyes still just as dark beneath heavy lids. She realized too that her knee had been pressed between Lexa’s legs as she got herself off, and that not all of the warmth and wetness against her skin was leftover from earlier rounds.

Clarke arched a brow and dragged her thumb across Lexa’s lower lip, unable to keep the smile off her face or out of her voice. “You weren’t kidding about liking to watch, were you?” Lexa’s flush darkened, and Clarke leaned in to bring their open mouths together for a kiss, slow and hot. She let her tongue flick against Lexa’s bottom lip as she drew it back, shifting just far enough to speak against her mouth. “Do you want to come again?”

" _Clarke_." Lexa exhaled her name on a breath of a laugh, embarrassed at being called out so explicitly, but not so embarrassed that she wasn't nodding almost before she’d finished the question. Her head bobbed against the pillow, nose brushing against Clarke's, and Clarke grinned and kissed her again. “Okay.”

She kissed a trail down her jaw and throat, lingering in the sensitive hollows of her clavicle, teasing her tongue around the tight buds of nipples and scraping teeth over the curve of breasts that shook with each unsteady breath. She laved over scars across her ribs, sucked a smear of her own slick off a hipbone, and kissed sticky inner thighs before dragging the flat of her tongue the full length of Lexa’s soaked, sensitive cunt.

It didn’t take a lot: quick backs and forths of her tongue here, a little delicate suction there, dipping in to lick well-fucked depths. Gentle but firm, Clarke sussed out how much pressure Lexa could still handle without it edging into pain and used only that much, testing and teasing at soft and swollen flesh. Her mouth was soft where even careful fingers might have over-stimulated, but not so cautious that she dragged it out too long, and soon she was holding quaking thighs on either side of her head as a final burst of pleasure rippled through Lexa and Clarke lapped it up as she eased her back down from her peak.

Clarke pushed herself up and had to smile, because her lover was already asleep before Clarke had even had a chance to wipe her chin, and that never happened. She nudged Lexa’s legs closed and crawled back up the bed to curl against her side once more, drawing the blanket over them both. As she settled in, Lexa half-woke just for a second, long enough to press a kiss to Clarke’s hair and murmur, “Love you, Clarke. _Ai don gaf dison_ ,” before she drifted back off. Clarke pressed a fond smile against Lexa’s shoulder and fell asleep with the taste of _I love you, too_ on her lips.

**Author's Note:**

>  _shof op_ : shut up  
>  _mou_ : more  
>  _beja_ : please  
>  _jok_ : fuck  
>  _som_ : something  
>  _ai don gaf dison_ : I needed this  
>  _oyun_ : yours  
>   
> Title is from the Drake lyrics _'cause if you let me, here’s what I’ll do / I’ll take care of you'_
> 
> I don't know if bookmarking means people can tell how often I go back to edit typos/change wording, but if anyone is getting notifications of that I am really sorry for my nitpicking but I can't promise I'll stop.


End file.
